Chinese Whispers (The China Thrillers 6) Read online

  ‘I want Margaret and Li Jon now,’ Li said. ‘Or I’ll drop the fucking bar on your head myself.’ He cast his eyes around the gym. ‘No witnesses to that, either.’

  The Deputy Chief got to his feet, folding his arms across his chest, and massaging aching upper arm muscles with his fingers. ‘We could only have held them for forty-eight hours. And after that it doesn’t matter. She’ll have to leave the country anyway.’

  ‘What?’ Li was caught completely off guard.

  A slow, bitter smile spread across the Deputy’s face. A small revenge. ‘Didn’t you know, Section Chief Li? Your little American lover has had her visa refused. She’s got to be on a plane home by Saturday.’

  * * *

  By the time the Deputy Chief of the Yuetan police station was back in uniform he had recovered a little of his dignity and composure. He would not attempt to stop Li from taking Margaret and Li Jon away with him, but it was not something he would forget in a hurry. Li had made himself another enemy. He held himself stiffly as he took Li down to the ground floor and through to the control room. Officers sat behind glass at a bank of computer screens and telephones, in constant radio contact with all the patrol cars in the district

  Li looked around. ‘Where are the cells?’ He had a grim picture in his head of Margaret behind metal grilles in a locksafe door, sitting miserably on a hard bunk bed cradling Li Jon.

  ‘We don’t have cells here,’ the Deputy Chief said, imagining the picture that Li had in his head, and bristling at it. ‘Suspects are detained in interview rooms, monitored by closed-circuit TV. Nobody gets abused in this station.’ They passed a glass-walled detention room and the Deputy stopped outside a door marked Family Room. ‘She’s in here. Normally we use this place to mediate in family disputes. Kind of appropriate, don’t you think?’ He opened the door.

  Margaret was sitting at a highly polished, six-sided table reading her copy of the Ripper book, her coat hanging over the back of her chair. Li Jon was asleep in his buggy beside her. She looked up as the door opened and saw Li. She was on her feet and across the room and in his arms almost before he could cross the threshold. ‘Oh, God, Li Yan …’ Her fingers dug into the back of his neck. ‘I’ve been so scared. I knew you’d come and get me, I knew it.’ She broke away and looked at him, tears brimming in her eyes. ‘They’ve refused to renew my visa. They say I have to be out the country by Saturday.’

  Li nodded grimly. ‘I heard.’

  ‘Can’t you do anything about it?’

  He shook his head, overcome again by a sense of helplessness. ‘I don’t know. If the worst comes to the worst, you and Li Jon might have to go back to the States. Just for a few days, until I can get things sorted out.’

  The Deputy Chief had been listening intently. Li had no idea if he spoke English or not. But now he waggled his finger at them. ‘No, no,’ he said. ‘You cannot take baby out of country.’

  Margaret stared at him. ‘Of course I can. He has a Consular Report of Birth Abroad from the American Embassy. That’s recognised worldwide as his passport. Even by you people.’

  But the Deputy Chief just shook his head. ‘No. You did not register baby as foreign resident with PSB. It is law. You must register and pay fee. Consular Report no good now. Baby Chinese. Stay here.’

  IV

  ‘I’m not leaving without him!’ Margaret was almost hysterical in the back of the taxi. ‘You can’t look after him. Jesus Christ, Li Yan, you can’t even look after yourself. And then if they won’t let me back in the country, and they won’t let Li Jon out …’ It didn’t bear thinking about. There was a chance she might never see her son again. ‘I won’t go!’ To make things worse, Li Jon started to cry.

  Li closed his eyes. His chest felt bruised, as if someone had taken fists to it. But it was just stress, and the hammering of his heart. For one brief moment, in the gym, he felt as if he had stopped falling, that he had found a ledge on which to steady himself before starting the long climb back to the top. But the ledge had given way beneath him and he was plummeting again, back into the abyss. ‘They’ll forcibly deport you,’ he said. ‘Physically put you on a plane. And there’s nothing I can do to stop that.’

  ‘I’ll take him to the US embassy, then,’ she said. ‘And once I’m in, I’ll refuse to leave. Then the Americans will have to do something about it. After all, as far as they’re concerned, we’re both American citizens.’

  ‘That’s crazy,’ Li said. ‘It could spark off a diplomatic incident. You could be in there for months. And then even if they did get you and Li Jon out of the country, there’s no way you’d ever get back in.’

  ‘I’m not sure I’d want to.’

  Li looked at her, hurt, wondering what that said about them. About their relationship. Li Jon’s wailing was filling the car, and the driver glanced unhappily over his shoulder and turned up the radio. Unaccountably, Margaret burst into tears. She hated the image of herself as some feeble, tearful female, but she had reached the end of her tether, and control was finally deserting her. Li put an arm around her shoulder and pulled her to him.

  ‘My God,’ she whispered. ‘What are we going to do? What are we going to do?’

  ‘I don’t know,’ he said, and he brushed away the tears from her face. ‘I wish I did.’

  Margaret tipped her head to look at him. ‘They said you’d been suspended.’ He nodded. ‘What for?’

  ‘I’ve been accused of selling the Ripper story to the Beijing Youth Daily.’

  She looked at him askance. ‘You’re kidding.’

  He shrugged. ‘I’ve also been charged with assaulting a police officer.’

  ‘And did you?’

  He managed a half smile. ‘Just a little.’

  Which also brought a smile to Margaret’s face. But it didn’t stay there long. ‘Someone’s got it in for you?’

  ‘Yeah.’

  ‘Who?’

  ‘Whoever murdered Lynn Pan.’

  ‘And you’ve still no idea who that is?’

  He shook his head. ‘It’s hard to investigate a murder when you have no office, no car, no detectives and no authority.’

  They fell into silence then. Margaret’s tears had dried up, her moment of self-pity passing. Li Yan was in even more trouble than she was.

  They were heading east on Jinsong Lu in the direction of the Beijing Jeep factory. On their right, row after row of drab, run-down seventies apartment blocks were like old acne scars on the face of the new Beijing. Margaret said, ‘Where are we going?’

  ‘Xiao Ling’s apartment.’

  ‘Why?’

  ‘She’s been arrested for possession of cocaine. My father’s looking after Xinxin, and I think he’s just about at his wits’ end.’

  They left the taxi idling in the forecourt amongst the dozens of bicycles huddled together there, as if for warmth. A handful of small boys was kicking a ball about through broken glass that littered the pavings. Li still harboured a sense of shame that his sister and niece should live in a place like this. But she did not earn much money, and the company provided the apartment. She could not afford to move anywhere else. Inside, a toothless old concierge sat behind a grilled window and told them that the elevator had broken down. They would have to take the stairs. As they headed for the open stairgate, Margaret heard her pulling phlegm into her mouth from her lungs and spitting it out on the floor. She held Li Jon tightly to her and followed Li up the steps.

  ‘You don’t think there’s any way Xiao Ling actually did have cocaine in her locker?’ she asked.

  ‘Not a chance,’ Li said. ‘Even if the timing had been different, I wouldn’t have believed it. But on the same day Li Jon’s buggy goes walkabout? The same day you have your visa turned down and get arrested? The same day I am accused of things I didn’t do and get suspended from duty?’ He paused for emphasis. ‘I don’t think so.’ He stopped on the next landing to catch his breath. The years of smoking were still taking their toll. ‘He’s trying to destroy me.
My family, my career. Anything he can do to discredit me, neutralise me. Here, let me …’ He took Li Jon from his mother’s arms to take his turn at carrying him. ‘It had been my intention to try to get him before he got me. But I wasn’t quick enough off the mark. He got there first.’

  They carried on up a stairwell that had once been painted cream, but was now the indeterminate colour of sludge, scarred and peeling. Each landing was cluttered with overspill from the apartments. Bicycles and bins, cardboard boxes and sacks of refuse. The air was bitter with the acrid scent of urine. ‘I never had the chance to talk to you about your father,’ Margaret said. Li glanced back at her, frowning. ‘We had a long talk when he came to see Li Jon yesterday afternoon. There’s stuff you both need to talk about.’

  ‘I don’t think now’s the time, Margaret.’

  ‘Maybe not. But in my head I can hear you saying that every time I mention it. There’s never going to be a good time, is there? For either of you. But until you talk, you’re never going to get things fixed.’

  ‘I didn’t break them.’

  ‘Perhaps you didn’t, but you haven’t done anything to help pick up the pieces either.’

  Li stopped on the next landing and turned. ‘I’ve tried, Margaret. Many times. But I’ve only ever cut my fingers.’ He wheeled away to the door at the far end of the landing, and knocked sharply. They heard running footsteps, and the door flew open to reveal a red-eyed Xinxin. She threw her arms around Li’s legs and burst into tears. ‘They’ve taken my mommy,’ she cried. ‘Uncle Yan, they’ve taken my mommy.’ And she craned her neck back to look up at him. ‘You’ll get my mommy back, Uncle Yan, won’t you?’

  ‘Sure, little one,’ Li said, with a confidence he did not feel.

  Margaret stepped up to take the baby. ‘Your uncle will sort everything out, Xinxin. Don’t worry, it’s all just a mistake.’

  Xinxin transferred her hug to Margaret, clinging to her in something like desperation. ‘I want my mommy, Magret. I want my mommy back,’ she whimpered.

  Li’s father appeared in the hall. He seemed to have aged in just twenty-four hours, and looked blanched and shrunken, and very fragile. Li said, ‘Get your coat and your hat. Are you all packed?’

  He nodded. ‘I was ready to leave for the train.’ He raised his left wrist, and his watch looked very large on it. He squinted at it. ‘I have missed it now.’

  Li crouched beside his niece. ‘Xinxin, I need you to go and pack some underwear and some clothes. Quickly. You’re coming to stay with me and Margaret until we get your mommy back.’

  ‘I’ll give her a hand,’ Margaret said, and she took Xinxin’s hand and they hurried off to her bedroom.

  Li and his father stood staring at each other. They were within touching distance, and yet the gap between them was apparently unbridgeable. Li said, ‘I’m going to have to take you to a hotel.’

  The old man examined the floorboards for a while, then said, ‘Can’t even find room in your home for your own father.’

  Li said, exasperated, ‘It’s an apartment for one, Dad. With Margaret and the baby and Xinxin, you’d have to sleep on the floor. I’ll take you to one of those big international hotels. You’ll be safe there, and comfortable.’

  ‘And on my own,’ he said. ‘Just as well I’m used to it.’

  Li sighed. It was an emotional complication he did not need. ‘I’ll get you booked on a train home tomorrow.’

  But the old man shook his head. ‘I will not go home until I know that Xiao Ling is safe and that she and Xinxin have been reunited.’

  * * *

  It was well past the lunchtime logjam, though too early for the evening rush hour, but still the traffic in Jianguomenwai Avenue was surprisingly light. A traffic cop with white gloves stood pirouetting at the intersection with Beijingzhan Street, waving through a huddle of cyclists. Away at the bottom end of the street the clock towers of Beijing Railway station caught the dipping sunlight as it swung westwards. On the north-east corner of the intersection, the three great concave arcs of the Beijing International Hotel swept up through twenty-two floors to a revolving restaurant on the top. Their taxi swung around a semicircular drive to pull up at the red carpet of its chrome, glass and marble entrance. It was beyond anything in old Mr Li’s experience. Li took the old man’s bag and helped him from the taxi.

  ‘I cannot afford a place like this,’ he said.

  ‘Not your problem,’ Li said. He paid the driver, and they pushed through revolving doors into a lobby the size of a football field, marble floors reflecting every light in a ceiling studded with them. Every surface seemed to reflect light, and more of it spilled through floor-to-ceiling windows lining the entrance, falling in great slabs across huge polished desks where assistant managers in immaculate suits sharpened pencils while awaiting enquiries.

  Li’s father shuffled after him across acres of floor to an endlessly curving reception desk. A young receptionist in black uniform and white blouse smiled at them, as she had been trained to do, but could not resist a flickering glance to take in the shabby, shambling figure of the old man.

  ‘It’s alright,’ Li said. ‘Our money’s as good as any foreigner’s.’

  The smile vanished from her face. ‘Can I help you?’

  ‘I’d like a single room.’

  ‘For how long?’

  ‘One night.’

  ‘Would that be standard or executive?’

  ‘Standard.’

  ‘Smoking or non?’

  Li sighed. ‘Non.’

  The girl tapped at a computer keyboard below the level of the counter. Then she slipped a registration form across it. ‘Fill that in, please. And I’ll need a credit card.’

  Li gave his father a pen to fill in the form. ‘How much is it?’ He said.

  She cocked an eyebrow, as if surprised that he would ask. ‘Eighty-one dollars, US.’

  ‘We’ll pay when he checks out.’

  ‘I’ll still need your card now. It won’t be charged to your account until departure.’

  Li took out his wallet and passed her his credit card. She took it from him and disappeared to the far end of the counter to swipe it through the machine. ‘Eighty-one dollars?’ the old man whispered in awe. ‘That’s crazy.’ It was more than he would have earned in a month while he was still teaching at the university.

  ‘It’s the nearest hotel to the station,’ Li said. ‘Even if I can’t pick you up tomorrow, you’ll be able to get there on your own.’

  ‘And if you haven’t got Xiao Ling back …?’

  ‘She’ll be fine, Dad. You’ll only need one night here.’

  The receptionist walked back along the length of the desk and snapped Li’s card on to the counter in front of him. ‘No good,’ she said smugly, taking clear pleasure in her knock-back.

  Li scowled. ‘What are you talking about?’

  ‘The transaction has been rejected by your credit card company.’

  ‘That’s ridiculous! Try it again.’

  ‘I tried it twice, sir. I’m sorry.’ But she wasn’t.

  Li’s father stood, pen poised above the registration card. He had not yet got as far as signing it. Li said, ‘Can I use a phone?’

  The receptionist shrugged and lifted a telephone on to the counter. Li dialled the number on the back of the card, and when he finally got through to an operator demanded to know why they would not process the transaction.

  ‘Your card has been cancelled,’ the operator told him.

  ‘Cancelled?’ Li was incredulous. He looked up to find the receptionist watching him. ‘That’s not possible. Who authorised the cancellation?’

  ‘I’m sorry, I am not at liberty to give out that information. Thank you for your enquiry.’ And the operator hung up.

  Li stood smouldering, angry and humiliated. If they had somehow been able to cancel his credit card, there was a good chance that his bank account had also been frozen. Which meant he would not be able to access any cash, except for t
he few hundred yuan he carried in his wallet. The receptionist was unable to keep the smirk from her face. Li took the registration card from his father and tore it in half. ‘We’ve changed our minds,’ he said. And he took his father’s arm and led him back across the marble firmament towards the doors.

  The old man was confused. ‘I don’t understand,’ he said. ‘What’s happening?’

  ‘They’re fucking with my life, Dad. They’re trying to ruin me and discredit me and grind me into the ground.’ He took a deep breath to regain his composure. ‘I’ll have to find you somewhere else to stay.’

  ‘I know what it’s like,’ his father said. ‘They did it to me, too. All those years ago. When I was “hatted” and paraded for public ridicule.’ He pulled on his son’s arm and made him stop, and looked up into his eyes with a directness Li had never seen there before. He found empathy in them. ‘Don’t let them break you, son. Not like they broke me. You have to fight them. I know that now. Your mother died fighting them. And I lived because I didn’t. And I’ve regretted it every day of my life since.’

  * * *

  Every west-facing twisted, knotted branch of every tree was edged with a golden pink. The faces of the old men, normally washed pale with a winter pallor, glowed in reflection of the dying day. Thoughts of cards and chess were turning to the bicycles stacked three deep along the fence, and the cold ride home in the fading light.

  Old Dai did not seem unduly surprised to see Li, but was clearly fazed by the sight of his best friend’s brother standing there in the park in his fur hat and baggy duffle coat, clutching a battered overnight bag. He gave the older man a long look, then turned back to the final moves of his game. ‘You didn’t come to play chess,’ he said.

  ‘No,’ Li said. ‘I need a place for my father to stay overnight.’

  Dai nodded without taking his eyes from the board. ‘Can your father not talk for himself?’

  ‘Yes, I can,’ said Li’s father.

  Dai raised a hand over the board as if about to make a move, then changed his mind. ‘I hear you have been suspended, Li Yan.’